


When in Vegas, Stiletto

by NovemberVisionary



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovemberVisionary/pseuds/NovemberVisionary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Team Arrow mission gives Felicity a new brand of confidence she never knew she had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When in Vegas, Stiletto

**Author's Note:**

> My latest fic, centered around Team Arrow/Olicity. I enjoyed writing a sassier version of Felicity and I hope you do as well! Comments feed my soul, so please provide some if you can - even if it is constructive criticism.
> 
> There are quite a few Olicity firsts for me in this particular oneshot. Let me know what you thought! Inspired by Felicity’s past and an idea for the ending scene from the wonderful, [Abbie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie) or [absentlyabbie](http://www.absentlyabbie.tumblr.com) from tumblr. All mistakes are my own, as this is a somewhat rough cut!
> 
> You can find Felicity's outfit [HERE](http://vitalvegas.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/osheas_las_vegas6.jpg)
> 
> Visit me on tumblr (username: dork84).
> 
> *Minor sexual harrassment trigger warning!

Felicity opened the hotel bathroom door with bravado. “Ta da! What do you think?”  She put her hands on her hips and twirled. She wore a modern rendition of a barmaid outfit, with a shoulder-less peasant top, a green corset, and black mini skirt that barely covered her _assets_.

Oliver’s eyes examined her outfit, or lack thereof, from head to toe.  His eyebrows widened miles high, nearly reaching his hairline, while Diggle let out a small snicker.

“You really took the Vegas cocktail waitress bit to heart, I’ll give you that much,” Diggle cracked.

“Why thank you, Johnny boy. This is what I would have looked like if you two yahoos didn’t come into my life. I want to look the part, but I’m also paying homage to Team Arrow with the green and all,” she beamed as she smoothed out her skirt and kicked her leg up playfully.

Oliver finally found his vocal chords. “No. You are not going on the mission. Too, uh, dangerous, and we didn’t think this through.” Oliver felt the judging glare from behind, courtesy of Diggle.

“First of all, hacking into an expensive hotel is one thing and creating a fake employee record for the club is another. Duplicating the uniform is way above my pay grade even if I am unemployed at the moment. The least we could do is make good of my labor. I don’t see anyone else qualified to hack through those encrypted files on the servers.” If Felicity’s hair was not down in lusciously thick curls, her ponytail would have flailed violently to accompany her rant.

Diggle stood up from the table he was leaning against and peered at Oliver. “Well, boss, what’s your excuse now?”

“Well, Mr. Arrow, what’ll it be?” Felicity scorned, tapping her stiletto-clad foot. “You know, I can see myself getting into character. After all, my name is Meghan Lily Green.  Maybe my no-good former gang banger boyfriend since high school left me for a girl with an IQ in the double digits, and now I am ‘rawr’ femme fatale Vegas cocktail maid who doesn’t take crap from lowlifes and wants to save up money to take photography classes and be a professional someday. Oh! This is good!” She clapped her hands in excitement. Oliver raised his eyebrows again, horrified.

“I believe you’ve created a monster,” Diggle said.

Oliver wiped his face with his hand, as if he could erase Felicity’s bubbling enthusiasm away.  He sighed in exasperation. “We’ll be covering you the whole time. Remember, once Diggle distracts the guards, you sneak in the back. You keep your comms on at all times.”

“Didn’t you forget something?” she asked.

“I don’t think so…”

“Well, the hand-holding and coddling if I need to cry to Daddy?” she sniped. “And that sounded vaguely dirty.”

He rolled his eyes, and she earned a chuckle from Diggle.

“Let’s go,” Oliver grumbled.

They arrived at the swanky club whose owner laundered money overseas to secret terrorist organizations. Once Felicity retrieved the information from the servers, she would forward them to ARGUS.  To tie the mission with a knot, the Arrow would give a “friendly” warning to the owner if he continued to siphon his club’s funds to not so friendly places.

Felicity had to admit that the clanking of her stilettos on the black tiles boosted her confidence to pull off her cover as Meghan Green, barmaid extraordinaire. She smiled thinking about the backstory she came up with all on her own. She gladly would have accepted an award for the “Best Improvisation by an IT Expert” if there was one.

Diggle headed toward the back, beginning his work, and Oliver positioned himself by the owner’s office.

“Meghan” felt a meaty hand grab her wrist. “Hey sweet thing, care to quench my thirst some?” She was greeted by a bald and pudgy man, with a fuzzy brown mustache that starkly resembled a hairy caterpillar.

Felicity gulped and assumed her character. “Sure, what’ll you have?”

He leered at her and licked his lips. “You know what I want.” She nearly threw up in her mouth, but tried to maintain her calm exterior. _I’m a “rawr” barmaid who doesn’t take crap from anyone, hear me roar,_ she told herself.

She flicked her wrist away from his greasy grip. “Listen, bud. I don’t have time for your two-cent come-ons. You might have tried them on some prepubescent minors, but they’re not even a blip on my lady radar. Take it somewhere else!” She huffed and stomped toward Diggle, who had his hand grazing his gun after hearing her exchange over the comms.

“Felicity, you need help?” Oliver called in.

“No, I handled it,” she replied.

Diggle motioned a fist pump to her while keeping his eyes on the guards he was chatting up.  The guards headed toward the front entrance, giving Felicity a chance to sneak into the server room.

“You got three minutes. Go get ‘em, girl,” Diggle cheered on and winked at her. 

“I’ll be in and out before you can say ‘in and out.’”

She scanned the computer room really quickly and flexed her fingers. She needed to load everything onto her flash drive.

“Thank goodness no one asked me about the flash drive, because ‘down my shirt’ is not exactly a conventional hiding place for a flash drive. Leave it to me to find ways to keep my tech on me at all times,” she muttered to herself.

She heard a clearing of a throat, which was from Diggle, and nearly jumped out of her chair. “We can still hear you, Felicity,” Oliver said tersely.

“Right, comms on at all times. Your fault for wanting that to happen,” she answered back.

“Felicity,” Oliver warned.

“Working on it as we speak, and nearly done. Don’t get your tights stuck up your quiver or anything.”  

She smirked at herself for still feeling the residual powers of her persona. With several clicks and a couple of clacks, Felicity completed her file transfer. She then wiped the original files clean from the system.

“All right guys, I’m all set,” she said.  Swift punches, disembodied screams, and a few gunshots echoed through her comms. Felicity carefully peeked through the glass window of the door.  The patrons of the club were frantically running in many directions, with tables and chairs strewn every which way.  The scene would have deceptively appeared to be the aftermath of a bar brawl to the uninformed observer.

“And this would be the ‘friendly reminder’ phase of our mission,” she commented.

“Felicity, I’m swinging around the back to get you! You think you can make it?” Diggle asked.

“I’m sure I can manage with a duck-and-cover, yes. I’ll be there in a few.”

She skipped in her heels and was nearly at the exit when she felt a hand snake around her waist. A clammy breath invaded her ear.

“Come on, baby doll. Where do you think you’re going? I don’t take no for an answer,” the customer from earlier said in a slightly more aggressive tone than before.

This was one of those times when all the training sessions with Diggle collided into a swift set of moves which consisted of grabbing his arm, and throwing him over her shoulder.  He landed with a nice thud against the floor. The smug expression on his face was quickly replaced by a look of shock and pain. She smiled sweetly and added her own flavor to the move by placing her stiletto against his windpipe.

“What were you saying, Mr. Creepy Mustache Man? Care to speak up?”

He feverishly shook his head side to side. She gleamed at her ability to instill fear in him and kept a tight grip on his arm that she used to throw him down.

“Felicity!” Oliver appeared by her side, nocking his arrow at the terrified man on the floor.

“I got this covered. Clearly. Now I can see why you like to intimidate people on a daily basis. This is kinda fun,” she said casually. Oliver quirked one side of his mouth. 

 “Apologize and I won’t put an arrow through your chest!”  He screamed through his modulator.

Mr. Creepy Mustache Man gasped and curdled, but could not speak.

“Oh, right,” Felicity said as she sadly pulled her stiletto away from his throat.

“I’m s-s-s-orry,” he stammered and raised his hands up in surrender.

“I guess that’ll have to do, since we’re short on time,” she shrugged, “let this be a lesson in ‘Keeping It in Your Pants 101.’”

“We gotta go,” Oliver whispered as he tugged on her arm.

Felicity frowned at the end of her role as Meghan Lily Green. She had never felt quite this empowered before. Always confident and not caring a damn thing about anybody were skills she learned early on in life, but this character injected a little more sass into her personality. Felicity could not imagine ever letting go of her outfit. It was a silent nod to her mother, as wacky as she is, and most importantly, the first time she executed a fight move in the field. It would take her a while before the rush would exit her bloodstream.

On the ride home, Felicity chattered on hastily, nearly stepping on her own words as she described her confrontation, down to the armpit sweat marks on his t-shirt. Diggle looked like a proud father, grinning at her through the rearview mirror while Oliver watched Felicity’s animated gestures with amusement.  If it weren’t for the space constraints of their car, she would have reenacted the entire scene, and probably use Diggle as the stand-in for Mr. Creepy Mustache Man.

They arrived at the fancy hotel and headed back to their presidential suite which contained a main living area and three separate rooms for each person. Felicity plopped down on the lounge-styled velvet sofa, crossing her legs. She plugged her flashdrive in and uploaded her files to her system.  Without saying a word, Diggle snuck a twenty-dollar bill into her hand and gave her a high five.

“So you do remember,” Felicity said, very impressed.

“Do you think I would forget my beloved IT girl took off the training wheels and kicked ass?”

Oliver had been quietly unloading his Arrow arsenal, but his ears perked at the exchange. “Remember what?”

“We made a bet on how long it would take before Felicity would use her self-defense moves. I figured you wouldn’t let her in the crossfire, so I foolishly thought it would take longer. Remind me to never bet against you ever again, Felicity.”

“The lesson of the day – don’t underestimate the power of stilettos,” she stretched her leg out to showcase her beloved weapon of choice.  

“Lesson learned,” Diggle responded. “All right, you two, I’m gonna contact ARGUS.” He took the flash drive from Felicity, and headed toward his room to make his call.

Felicity sighed in content and spread her legs out in front of her on the length of the couch. Oliver crossed his arms and sat on the arm rest.

“So, you really liked tonight’s mission?” He leaned into her and grinned.

“Like is such a weak word. If there was a cloud 234, I would be on it dancing it, even if it is scientifically improbable.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he replied, looking at her in adulation.

Felicity tilted her head to the side and stared at him right back. She was amused that he was amused, and saw him debate something inside his head.

She cocked another smile. “You know, there is another advantage to these stilettos.” She slinked off the couch, one leg at a time.

“Oh yeah, what is that?” He gulped at the sudden proximity between them. She stood right in front of him, akimbo. For the first time, she physically intimidated _him_ with the height difference.

She grabbed at the collar of his green hood, “They give you…” she pushed him down on the couch, pressing the entire length of her body against his, “special powers,” she said huskily. He instinctually cupped her elbows, as she still held onto his jacket. Their faces were so close that Oliver could see the golden flecks in her blue eyes.

“What’s your next move, Mr. Queen?” He searched her eyes for any indication to back off. She was playfully bold, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t like this new side to her.  He gently threaded his fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck while he rubbed his thumb against her temple.  The look of want in his eyes caused her belly to flutter.

He crashed his lips against hers, not bothering with any pleasantries of a soft kiss that would crescendo into the passionate trading of air they were currently experiencing. Felicity cupped her hands on his neck while hanging desperately onto his jacket with the other. All of her five senses were in high alert, from the cool taste of his soft lips, to the way his scruff gently scratched and tickled her face. They finally broke their dance for some much needed oxygen. It was better than she could have possibly imagined.

Oliver rubbed his thumb against the bottom of her lip, and lifted her chin up, “You need to wear those heels more often.” He winked at her and she giggled. A door creaked open, and Felicity pushed herself off of him in lightning speed.

“Did I miss anything?” Diggle asked, still distracted by his phone as he entered the room.

“Nope. Nothing. Nothing happened here,” Felicity babbled, smoothing her outfit out. Oliver kept a stoic look on his face, avoiding as much eye contact with his brother in arms.

Diggle took a quick glance at Felicity and Oliver and pursed his lips together. “Mmm.” He mumbled under his breath, “It’s about damn time.”


End file.
